After The Dust Has Settled
by Unnamed.in.whispers
Summary: After the end scenes from 'Moment of Truth'. While the village observes a wake in honour of William, Merlin buries William's ashes and holds vigil into the night. There is a lot to consider; his future, his destiny and Arthur... Who comes seeking his servant...


**Title:** After the dust has settled **Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur [Merlin/William?]

**Series:** Merlin **Rating: **15 **Type: **AU/ Angst

**Summary:** After the end scenes from 'Moment of Truth'. While the village observes a wake in honour of William, Merlin buries William's ashes and holds vigil into the night. There is a lot to consider; his future, his destiny and Arthur... Who comes seeking his servant...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Merlin characters or anything from the universe of Merlin. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Shine Productions for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual series. Enjoy.

()

The night was surprisingly warm.

Merlin hated that.

There was a deep feeling inside him that insisted there should be nothing warm about this night, nor any other. Not since his childhood friend had been slain.

Back in the village - the village saved from persecution by Prince Arthur, the lady Morgana and Guinevere - Merlin's family and friends celebrated the life of William and the honour with which he passed from this life to the next.

Merlin was unable to join them in ale and laughter. He could not recount the joys of William's life; not when he had watched his friend sacrifice himself; not when he had sat by William's side while he choked on blood and whispered of his affections in this life and his fears for the next.

In truth, it had been William who had saved the village. William had leapt in front of the arrow intended for Arthur, saving the young prince. And then he had saved Merlin's life by lying to Arthur and saying he was the sorcerer who had conjured the deadly whirlwind that swept away the enemy from his village... when, in reality, it had been Merlin.

But, there was a terrible truth in Merlin's thoughts. William had died for Merlin; for love. William had died protecting Arthur. And thus, Merlin's love for Arthur killed his childhood friend.

And he wished that he could say 'if only things had been different'. But the dread truth of it was that Merlin would have William dead a thousand times for Arthur to live.

The night merged easily from cerulean sky to inky midnight clouds, yet Merlin had barely noted the passage of time. And, with only a flagon of finest mead to keep him company, the stars slowly blurred.

Perhaps the mead was why he was feeling so warm.

If Merlin concentrated hard enough, he was sure he could hear William laughing in the background of his thoughts.

His friend was telling him what a light-weight he was. That he never could hold his ale. Reminding him of the night when they had both come of age and broken into the ale merchants apple tonic reserve and spent the night quenching their thirst on a barrel of satisfying liquor.

That night had been warm too; full of laughter and the gentleness of friendship.

The day after William had regretted it. Merlin had thought his friend might turn inside out at one point and so, to ease the sickness, Merlin had conjured a soothing wind and eased Williams pain with the touch of his hand.

Of course, William had not let him alone after that.

The boy had grown convinced Merlin knew magicks and relentlessly pursued the topic at every opportunity. Once Merlin had relented and shared his secret with his friend, they had spent time together perfecting incantations to help them in their daily chores. There were times Merlin had thought he could never be as close to anyone as he was to William.

He had found himself looking forward to seeing the other boy each morning and dreading when they were to part each night. But he was young, the days in the village were long and life was easy.

Then Merlins mother noticed Williams interest. And Merlin was sent away.

Williams laughter grew louder as Merlin slumped on the ground from his seat on a felled tree.

"Thank you, William." Merlin toasted, finishing his drink.

The laughter stopped.

A hand grasped Merlins shoulder and the young sorcerer leapt in fright.

"Remind me to train you to hold your drink." Arthur intoned, taking a seat next to Merlin, "Lord knows your countrymen can."

Merlin turned to look at the young prince, who was oddly dressed in comfy beige slacks, an umber shirt and wrapped in brown fur skin.

Without looking his way, Arthur threw his torch onto the cinders of Merlin's dwindling fire and leaned across the younger man.

Merlin was buried in Arthurs arms for a moment, where it was warm and comforting and he found himself almost relaxing into the semi-embrace, when the prince moved away. Merlin discovered he was equally wrapped in skins.

"You'll catch your death out here." Arthur complained, moving to collect something from his side.

"Why..?" Was all the sorcerer managed before Arthur turned back to him.

"I asked your mother where you might be." He explained, taking Merlin's cup and filling it from a bottle he had been carrying. "She said this is where you and William often played as children."

Merlin winced. The sound of Arthur saying his friends name seemed too casual. After all, the prince had hardly known the man who saved his life.

"He meant a lot to you," Arthur said, a little more quietly, "Didn't he?"

Merlin felt his head nodding before he acknowledged, "More than most."

For some reason, Arthur took this as a signal and shuffled away from his companion.

They sat in silence, for a time, Merlin sniffing at the apple scented liquid in his cup and recalling a night quite similar to this, many moons ago...

"I may have been unkind before." Arthur admitted, again, not looking his way. "I was surprised, you see."

"What surprised you?"

"That you had been so close to someone who..." Arthur turned to him, chewing over the words, "someone who could conjure such powerful sorcery."

Merlin shrugged, "There is nothing bad about magic, Arthur."

"Try explaining that to my father." The prince scoffed.

"There isn't." The young man insisted. "What is wrong is when someone uses it for ill. Magic itself is quite natural. Some people are even born that way."

Arthurs brow furrowed as he gulped at his liquor, then he breathed. "Well, that's as maybe. But I don't think it's a proper thing to practice."

Merlin frowned, wanting to berate Arthur but knowing that the man was still quite used to being treated as a future king would be... everyone hanging from each word that fell from his full and eager lips, the kingdom waiting for the sigh of his breath...

"I know you are more tolerant than I," Arthur continued, "now I think I understand why. But you mustn't let these types of people turn your head. What they do isn't right. It's illegal and immoral..."

"Why are you here?" Merlin spat the question at his friend before remembering who he was talking to.

Arthur wasn't as angry as Merlin might have expected, more surprised. Then, after a moment of pondering the question, he answered, "For you."

Merlin felt the laughter snort through his nose. "For me."

"Yes." Arthur confirmed, nodding his head slowly, "For you."

Merlin looked to the young prince. "Are you serious?"

Arthur finished his drink and poured himself another. "Of course I am serious," he said, the moment passing quickly. "The problem with being Royalty is that you expend a great deal of time braking in new servants. I am only saving myself trouble in the long-term."

Merlin felt his eyes role. "Very funny, sire." So he went back to his ale as Arthur stared at him.

"Honestly," he said, leaning across to top up Merlins cup, "I can't have all that effort go to waste."

"That's why you're here." Merlin laughed again, taking a glug of ale. "To save the extra work involved in hiring new staff?"

"Precisely."

The warmth of the night bubbled over Merlins skin and he found the words, "Not according to some," slipping from his lips.

Again, Arthur finished his cup, "Oh." He said, attempting to compose himself.

"My mother said you must care for me to have risked yourself."

"It was no risk," Arthur scoffed, tipping his mug and receiving no ale for his effort.

Merlin squinted at his own cup, barley a quarter drank... how did Arthur do that? He steadied himself and finished his drink in time for it to be refilled.

"I mean it though," Merlin continued, "You have risked your life for me. My mum noticed it... so did the girls..."

"The girls?"

"Morgana and Gwen," Merlin explained happily. "I heard them talking."

"Morgana..." Arthur whispered, darkening and finishing his cup before waving the bottle at Merlin again.

Hurrying to finish his drink in one slurp, Merlin hiccoughed. "Yeah... I know."

Arthur turned to him quickly.

"I mean..." Merlin blundered, "She's... you know. Pretty..."

"Hmm..." the young prince considered. "There was a time when I thought she and I would be the future royal parents of Camelot's heirs."

The thought didn't truly settle with Merlin, so he took the lead by drinking his cup.

Arthur looked surprised and finished his own, to refill the two empty goblets, "Although, more recently," Arthur continued, "I have felt affection on both sides wane."

Arthur looked out to the restless sky.

"What's that mean?" Merlin asked, growing ever more warm and shedding his furs.

"It means... I don't seem to be the one she desires any more..." Arthur looked deeply into his cup, "And she is not what I want either." Then he finished his drink.

"You can't have any more of that left!" Merlin commented, angling his cup at Arthurs.

The young prince produced a second bottle and Merlin felt his stomach roll.

"Always plan ahead, Merlin." Arthur smiled, reaching over.

The wizard watched golden liquid flow into his cup.

From the silence, Arthur sighed. "What I mean to say is that... none of the ladies of Camelot catch my eye."

"You're not still sore over Sophia."

"What?" Arthur frowned a moment, then laughed and refilled his own cup, "Oh. _Her."_

Merlin recalled the blonde woman that had bewitched his friend with a degree of bitterness. But, it seemed, to Arthur she was ancient history.

"I don't know what that was, but it wasn't love."

"You were under a spell."

Arthur laughed, "I must have been," he dismissed lightly, "I can't believe the way I treated you. All those times you were put in the stocks for me over _her_..."

Merlin snorted into his drink and chose to change subject, "So, now you know what love is?"

"I will be king, Merlin." Arthur smiled, readying his cup, "Kings know all." Then he drank deeply.

"But you aren't king yet." Merlin reminded.

Arthur eyed him, "Your point?"

"Perhaps you have more to learn."

"About love?" Arthur questioned, turning his deep, ocean eyes to his friend.

"Well... just..." Merlin stuttered, "I didn't mean..." He gave a short breath and smiled, "In general... there's more to learn, in life... I suppose."

Arthur gave a lopsided grin, "Yes and I am sure there's an awful lot you can teach me."

"There is," Merlin insisted; somewhat affronted by Arthurs dismissal.

"Of course," the prince shifted toward the dying fire, "But for now... I would settle for fetching me some more fire wood."

Grasping at the moment, Merlin stretched out his hand, "Allow me." He said with a flurry and focused on the elements about him.

The flames leapt to his command and produced a great heat.

Arthur nearly flipped backward and Merlin allowed himself a moment of smug pride.

Something which was not long-lived as Arthur gawked at him.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

Merlin felt his teeth worrying his lip, "Magic." He admitted, feeling his body curl into himself shyly.

Arthurs eyes bulged, "But that's treason!"

Smugness morphed back to a drunken annoyance, "How can saving your life be treason?!"

"I know William used magics to save the village. And he died saving my life," Arthur reached out, gripping Merlin with urgency. "But you can not... you... my father must never know."

Shrugging free of Arthurs grip, Merlin felt a cascade flood through him, "You don't get it, do you! It's not the magic that harms; it's the person who wields it."

Arthur struggled to get to his feet, but Merlin found himself restraining the panicking prince. "You! It was you in the battle. You conjured that whirlwind!"

"Me," Merlin confirmed, tightening his grasp, "it was me protecting you Arthur. My magic is like your sword." Arthur struggled away from him, unwilling to believe as his servant "It's what I use to keep you safe. You are everything I think about. You're my destiny."

The young mans struggling ceased very quickly, "I'm your destiny."

"Why else would I stay?" Merlin questioned as Arthur slumped back to his seat, "I have been pelted with vegetables, locked behind bars, made to clean your clothes and scrub your floors," Merlin swallowed, "I even scrub your back in the bath..."

Arthur coughed awkwardly.

"You really think I would stick around if you weren't important to me?"

"Well, I..." Arthur reached for his drink.

"And don't pretend I'm not important to you." Merlin reasoned, taking a sip from his cup, "You wouldn't be here if I wasn't. Everyone agrees."

Arthur remained silent. He simply watched the dark haired man before him and wondered when the petulant little commoner had become so important to him.

Somehow it felt as though there had never truly been an Arthur without Merlin at his side. The young prince had never really had someone to offer a counter to his actions. In many ways, Merlin was braver than most people allowed.

No one truly saw this courage. But Arthur recognised it. From the moment the scrawny, cocky youth had saved his life, Arthur had been bound to Merlins fate. It was the reason he was sat at the fire place right now instead of being waited on at Camelot.

And if it came to it, Arthur considered, he would choose to sit in the cold, drinking peculiar brews with this peasant-boy than quaffing fine spirits in the warmth of his father's castle.

It meant something to have Merlin beside him. Magic and Camelot be damned.

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, "what I am going to say to you now is never to be repeated."

That got the other mans attention.

"At times you are the most insufferable, irritating, idiotic creature in existence." Merlin huffed as he listened, "You have no sense of grace, of the way in which things are done and you certainly don't stand on ceremony when you should."

"Finished?" The sorcerer asked.

"No!" The prince exploded, standing and pacing, "You ridicule me openly, constantly talk back to your superiors, tell people that the way things have been are not the way things should be... you save my life and offer advice when I have neither asked or desired it..." Arthur began shaking his head as the words tumbled from his mouth... "You have made me a better person." He said in realisation. "I have grown to admire and respect you in equal measure. You mean..." He stopped abruptly, looking down to his waiting friend, "... a great deal. You're in my life and in my thoughts. I can honestly say I have never met anyone like you."

Merlin seemed gob-smacked. It took a moment for him to form words. "I'm not sure what to..."

"But I can't accept this..." Arthur gestured to the fire. "I can't disobey my father's ruling."

"I thought that's what you were doing right now," Merlin countered, "By being here and helping these villagers fight."

"That's different."

"How?!"

"Merlin!" Arthur cried, involuntarily flinging his arms out in exasperation, "I just can't."

Another moment of stunned silence met him.

"Magic is outlawed." Arthur concluded, "No matter the person conjuring it. No matter how I feel about you..."

Anger bubbled up in Merlin's thoughts, "You would have me arrested?"

"The practice of magic is forbidden..."

"I've saved your life! Doesn't that prove magic can be used for good?"

"Magic can also be used to destroy."

"You used your sword to save these people," Merlin gestured toward the village, "others used swords to enslave and kill them. But you don't go around outlawing swords or blacksmiths. It's not the instrument but those who wield it that make magic good or evil!"

"None-the-less," Arthur stood tall. "It is forbidden."

Feeling an urge to scream, Merlin swallowed the frustration and thought through Arthur's words. "The practice of magic is forbidden... in Camelot."

"Yes," Arthur seemed relieved. "That's what I am saying."

Merlin smiled, placing his cup at his side and standing to meet the prince, "But we aren't in Camelot. Are we?"

Arthur frowned. "No..." he said, slowly.

"So, how can I break a law of the land when I am not in the land that law is part of?"

Thinking about this, Arthur went to answer but he noticed the fire light flash in Merlins eyes. All about them was bathed in bright glow as an illumination floated from the treetops.

Arthur recognised the light from his quest months ago. It was a light that lead him to safety. A light he had trusted completely.

Stretching out his hand, he touched the sphere, feeling the energy fizz over his skin. It was happy, warm and familiar. It whispered to him...

Arthur turned to Merlin to see his friend holding an illumination of his own. "You..."

"Didn't you always wonder?" Merlin closed his hand and the two spheres vanished.

"I thought I could hear your voice," Arthur admitted, "but I couldn't have."

"You could – because you did."

Arthur shook his head in defeat. "How long have you been like this?"

"Possessed of magic?" Merlin laughed, retaking his seat. "All my life."

"And William knew?"

"He did more than know." Merlin smiled and raised his cup to his lips, "He accepted me." Then he finished his drink.

When Merlin looked out from behind the relative safety of his ale, he saw Arthur looking down at him. Clearly his comment had struck a nerve.

The prince sat beside him, "I wish I could just forget all the troubles that magic has brought to my land."

"It's a taught fear." Merlin shrugged.

"I fear nothing." Arthur stated.

"Except magic."

The prince scowled, "I do not fear you."

Merlin huffed, "Then what was that panic you had a moment ago?"

"I wasn't panicking," Arthur protested, "I was merely..."

"Freaking out?"

"Adjusting," Arthur looked serious again, "I was thinking that that's what you meant when you asked me not to think of you any differently this morning."

Merlins brow crumpled.

"When we were dressing for battle."

Merlin vaguely recalled the conversation... he had been building up to telling Arthur the truth.

"And... do you think differently of me?"

The young blonde considered this, staring into the fire.

...

"Arthur..?"

"I'm thinking!" The prince snapped.

"Right," Merlin nodded, "Take your time."

It was only his future, after all. No pressure.

"No." Arthur finally concluded. "I don't think any differently of you. But I'm not sure what I can do about it."

Merlin nodded. "I don't suppose there is a way you can forget everything we have said?"

Arthur smiled, glancing at his drained bottle of liquor, "Not nearly had enough."

There was a way, Merlin thought. He had studied a memory spell that caused the recipient a brief bought of amnesia when cast.

But he didn't want to steal his friend's memories... not after he had finally come clean and revealed the truth.

He looked to Arthur, who was shaking his head. "We won't tell my father." The prince concluded, "He would have you killed on sight."

Merlin shook his head, "People will wonder why we are always together. Why we whisper in corners and you protect me."

"I thought it was you who protect me." Arthur joked.

But Merlin knew the truth of it. He couldn't continue in Camelot while magic was outlawed. And if he could not continue in Camelot, he could not protect Arthur.

In that moment of realisation, he made his decision.

There was one thing that he needed in order to fix things. It was something from Arthur...

"Merlin," the prince smiled, "I am glad you told me."

His heart stuttered, "I trust you Arthur." He said in all honestly. But he also knew that trusting Arthur wasn't enough. "Is there anything else to drink?"

The blonde turned away to check the alcohol reserves and Merlin had his chance...

Leaning across Arthur, Merlin got close enough to see the question in his Arthurs eyes as he locked his lips onto his friends.

Arthur hesitated a moment, but then seemed to lean into the caress, opening slightly. Merlin pressed the advantage; the prince tasted of apple and cinnamon as Merlin swiped his tongue about the other mans mouth.

Arthur gasped, his body tensing a moment before relaxing again.

By now, Merlin had what he needed and went to move away, but Arthur snatched him back, bracing a hand at the base of his head to hold him there while he explored the sorcerers mouth in kind.

When the prince was fulfilled, he rested his head against Merlins shoulder as they both recovered.

"And that was for..?" Arthur asked.

"You will see," Merlin replied, glumly, having collected the Princes saliva and spitting it to his hand to whisper the incantation.

"Promises, promises," Arthur laughed, rubbing circular patterns on Merlin's back.

Merlins eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, his hand falling from his back, "there are times I despair of you." His speech began to slur. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't care."

Merlin felt the man in his arms begin to slump, "You mean..."

"I feel the same Merlin." Arthur admitted, his eyes closing, "I would defy my heritage for you."

Then the man fell asleep.

Merlin remained, laying Arthur on the ground and wondering if he had done the right thing by taking back the night from his future king.

()

The morning arrived and Arthur moaned, pressing a hand to his head and protesting against the pain he found there.

Merlin smiled and fetched him water, helped him to his feet and cast an arm over his shoulder to guide the prince back to the village where they washed and clothed themselves.

"Merlin," Arthur began, "will you tell me something."

The sorcerer nodded.

"After all the drink lastnight..."

"Yes?"

"Did I... have I..." the blonde frowned, "is there something I have forgotten?"

Merlin stopped short, turning to see the prince lightly brushing his lips with a gloved hand.

"Not that I recall." Merlin lied.

Arthur seemed... disappointed.

"Well then," the prince ordered, "Let's to Camelot. Time we got home."

As Merlin watched Arthur leave, he smiled. Camelot was where he belonged. And, even though the prince could not remember it, Merlin knew he was accepted; even loved.

And, for now, that was enough.


End file.
